


Beldin's Choice

by Marien



Category: Belgariad/Malloreon Series - David & Leigh Eddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-01-04
Updated: 2005-01-04
Packaged: 2018-01-25 08:55:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1642715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marien/pseuds/Marien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Story by Marien</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beldin's Choice

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Adina

 

 

 

 

"Beldin. Wake, my son--You _must._ You are needed."  
Even without the urgency in the God's tone, the sound of Aldur's voice  
was enough to wake me.  
"Master?" I'd been at my tower, waiting, hoping for any news of Belgarath,  
or of Poledra. She'd sent out her thoughts early in the morning, warned the  
rest of us to stay away and 'not pester her'.

I knew the child had to be nearly ready to be born. I didn't argue. I was no midwife,  
or physician, and she knew what she was about, I assumed.  
Wolves, or falcons, don't dance around certain subjects the way humans do.  
Not that they aren't polite, but--

I got out of bed. "What--Is..something wrong, Master?"

"Come to Belgarath's tower," was all he would say.

I walked down the staircase to the entrance, and hurried outside. It was a  
bitterly cold night, winds blowing. Thankfully, we had other ways.  
I translocated myself, appearing at the door of their Tower.  
The door swung open. I walked inside, brushing snow off my hair and  
clothes.  
"Poledra?"  
No answer.  
Damned stairs. I climbed them, as best I could. It would be rude simply  
to translocate myself up, into her room.  
The sound of a baby crying reassured me...until I realized Poledra wasn't  
there.  
I found the room she'd meant for a nursery. The cradle held a baby wrapped  
in a blanket--  
Then I looked again.  
"Two of them?" Well, she had mentioned it, but--"Are they boys, or--"

"Daughters. The dark-haired child is Polgara, the fair child is Beldaran."

Baby Polgara stopped crying as I bent over the cradle. "Hello, little one,"  
I said softly. I touched her cheek gently. She turned her head to suck at  
my fingers.

"Master...?" I looked about, troubled. "Why isn't...?"

He was silent for far too long, though it was only a few minutes. I felt cold, a chill  
that had nothing to do with the bloody weather.  
"She...is lost to us, Beldin. The labor...was too much for her--"

"No. NO!"

I sank to my knees, feeling as if I'd been stabbed.  
"Bring her back--"

"We cannot, my son. You know that. Do you think I would not have, else?"

I didn't try to stop tears burning down my face. Oh, I could have, I'd had plenty of  
practice at it even before I was drawn to the Vale. When you're a deformed, ugly,  
hunchbacked orphan, you have exactly two choices. Toughen, or starve.

But I didn't want to, this time.  
Poledra...  
It isn't quite right to say she was a sister to me. I'd never had siblings, how would I know  
how it felt? All I knew was that I loved her. She was bright, kind, unfailingly honest, but  
nevertheless had been the only person even in the Vale, aside from Aldur, who had  
been able to look at me without shock or disgust--or pity--in her eyes, from our  
first meeting.

She loved flying. I'd watch her sometimes, in the sky, cruising past her as the falcon.  
And now--

Aldur's presence was like warmth, I felt him hurting, too.  
That jolted me out of the first spasm of grief, and I cursed myself.

If this was bad for me--how strange would it be for them?  
I turned my attention back to the newborn twins. Tried to cast my thought out to  
them, nervously, not as 'loud' as I usually was.  
\--Hello, little sweethearts. I'm your uncle. Beldin.

"They are too young, Beldin," Aldur spoke, equally soft. "They have not learned  
words yet to speak with. They understand feelings, the senses."

I scrubbed at my eyes, tried again. Leaning over, I rested a hand on Beldaran's head.  
She seemed to be smiling at me.  
Thought about how I loved their mother, and them. I wasn't their father, but they were  
my family. How happy I was that they were there.  
She laughed.  
Polgara gurgled happily, too, reached up toward me.

I held them, rocked them, tried to sing a lullaby I'd heard Poledra singing once.  
"You will have to be as a father to them, until Belgarath returns."

"Is he well? Safe?"

"As safe as may be. He is on his way home, but it will be some months yet."

"You didn't need to ask. You know that. But--" I bit off a curse. "What do I know about  
caring for children? No one--" I stopped.

"So, you have, I presume, learned what should not be done?"

I laughed wryly. "That's the Gods' own truth. I---I'll take them to my tower."  
Polgara watched my face, looking very grave, as we translocated to an empty room  
in my home.  
"You're going to be a rare handful, aren't you? Maybe we should be grateful you don't  
talk yet. I suspect you've inherited your father's temper."

A pail of milk and two tiny cups appeared. I fed them, somewhat clumsily. The twins  
and Aldur joined us not long afterward. Beltira's eyes were red from weeping.  
None of us wanted to be alone. Of course, the twins never really were---

"Are they going to be like Beltira and Belkira? Twin sorceresses?" I questioned Aldur.

He paused, then answered, "Nay, dear Beldin. Polgara is gifted with the Will and the  
Word-- Beldaran is also gifted, but her power is not one she wields, but in what she  
is. But we must speak of that another time. For now-- Let them be children."  
I nodded, accepting his words.

I'd known a few women, but never fathered any brats, that I knew of. Until now, I'd thought that  
was for the best; if a son or daughter of mine had inherited my deformities, I would never  
have forgiven myself. Sorcery doesn't make up for that sort of loneliness.

"No, nor should it. That is what families are for." Aldur put an arm around my shoulders.  
"And someday, you will know what it means to be loved as Belgarath and Poledra loved  
one another. "

I laughed. "You're going to find me a sorceress or some wisewoman who can't see,  
are you? Not much chance of it." I shrugged, and let the subject drop. Now was enough  
to deal with, and yes, to be happy about, even amidst sorrow.

"She will," he answered calmly. "You and she will rule the sky together...someday."

"I leave prophecies to Belgarath," I said. "I'm not the Godslayer, or one of the chosen  
companions. Being myself, alive, well, and here is reward enough."

"That is for you to judge, is it?" Aldur chuckled. "You should know better by now."

[He's a new father, Aldur.} The other voice that spoke shook me to my bones. [They're often  
a bit nervous, I've noticed. And like most things, he didn't come to it in the traditional manner.  
But he's ready. ]

I stared at my Master, and then decided for one time in my life that no, I wasn't going to ask.  
My little foster-daughter began to wail again, and I went in search of something to play with.

 

 

 


End file.
